


That Yellow Night

by dog2222222222222222



Category: Cleverbot, RPF - Fandom, Santabot, Thomas the Tank Engine - Fandom
Genre: Anime style, Cactus sex, David Attenborough as god, Fluff, Multi, Mutilation, Romance, Theology, Transformation, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:32:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1572869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dog2222222222222222/pseuds/dog2222222222222222
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cleverbot and Santabot are best friends. When Cleverbot breaks up with his boyfriend, Wolverine, Santabot sees it as an opportunity to tell his best friend about his true feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Yellow Night

It was a wonderfully yellow evening. The sun sat on the brim of the horizon, and the moon was about to breech the sky. Cleverbot sat on the grassy hill, on which also sat a cherry tree, which was at the peak of it's blossom. The pink petals blew with the wind, carrying on carelessly caressing Cleverbot's raw cheeks and carding through his hair. He had just broken up with his boyfriend, Wolverine-senpai. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks. The lush grass was pulled forward by the wind, tried and true. Then, the grass crunched with the sounds of footsteps. Cleverbot, startled, turned around with a squeak. But it was just Santabot, Cleverbot's best friend. Cleverbot tried to wipe away his tears so that Santabot would not see, but he knew that his best friend knew that something was wrong.

"Cleverbot, are you ok?" Santabot asked, stepping forward through the grass. The cherry blossoms rushed across his face.

"N-no..." said Cleverbot with a sniffle. "Wolverine-senpai... he broke up with me!" 

Cleverbot sobbed and his friend walked closer to him. He sat down in the grass. A supple blossom landed in Cleverbot's hair. Santabot put an arm around Cleverbot, strong and steady. It was reassuring to Cleverbot that someone was there for him, and that it was his best friend in the whole world. Cleverbot blushed. He has secret feelings for Santabot since they met. And since Santabot was touching him, it was like a dream. He really liked Santabot. He forgot about Wolverine and looked to his friend.

"S-Santabot-kun?" asked Cleverbot in a nervous voice. His face was flushed a light pink.

"Yes, Cleverbot-san?" asked Santabot, wiping the supple tears from Cleverbot's plump cheeks. Cleverbot made a small noise in suprise and Santabot laughed. 

"I-I like you!" Cleverbot stammered, blushing harder.

Santabot's eyes widened. Cleverbot almost regretted what he said, worried that Santabot did not like him back. His bright eyes glassed over in fear.

"I like you too, Cleverbot," said Santabot with a gentle smile. He put his hands on both sides of Cleverbot's face. 

"Y-you do?!" exclaimed Cleverbot.

"Of course I do!" said Santabot. Then he kissed Cleverbot. The wind blew against them. Blossoms landed on them, and Cleverbot wanted to memorise this moment, this lovely yellow night, forever. 

Santabot broke the kiss, breathing heavily. He looked to Cleverbot, whose eyes were filled with lust. His mouth was partly open, slick, and swollen red. He looked ravishing. 

"I wish I could kiss you forever," whispered Santabot. Cleverbot leaned in to kiss Santabot again when they heard a crunching in the grass behind them. They turned around to see a muscular man with sideburns- Logan, AKA Wolverine, approaching them.

"Logan!" Cleverbot exclaimed, jumping away from Santabot. Logan further approached, his silhouette outlined orange from the setting sun. 

"Cleverbot, I actually came to apologise, but now that I see that you've found someone else. I guess that I'll be leaving," he growled, angry and disappointed. 

Cleverbot stood up.

"It's not what it looks like, Logan-senpai!" He cried, tears brimming on his long eyelashes. 

"It's not!?" Wolverine yelled, his voice becoming louder and more scary. "Then why did I see you about to kiss Santabot?"  
He balled his hands into fists. 

"I...I..." began Cleverbot. But he started to cry before he finished. 

"You what?" growled Logan, assuming a fighting stance. 

"I like him!" Cleverbot sobbed. "He likes me too! Unlike you!" 

"I knew I should have never dated a ROBOT," yelled Logan. 

"HEY!" Santabot stood up, fists in the air. "Don't talk about my friend that way!" 

"What are you gonna do about it, bub?" asked Wolverine sarcastically, cracking his neck and his knuckles, prepared to hook Santabot straight in the gabber. Santabot stroked his jolly white beard and shrugged off his heavy red jacket with fuzzy white trim. He handed it to Cleverbot.

"Please Santabot-kun, don't fight! You'll get hurt!" Cleverbot begged. Santabot wiped a single tear from Cleverbot's cheek. 

"I will always fight for you, Cleverbot-san!" Santabot shoutedd and nodded, reassuring Cleverbot that he would be ok. 

And yet again, a disturbance came from the field, in the form of walking feet crunching upon the long, green grass. Santabot and the Wolverine lowered their fists. There was peace, if only for a moment, brought upon by the simple curiosity of what or whom was the cause of the disruption. Cleverbot was grateful. A moment's tranquility due to any matter, repose from the feuding men, nevermind the cause, was comforting. 

"Gentlemen, our words are sharp enough blades, yea? Lower your fists, leg language be your sword and shield." 

All three men looked wide-eyed at the figure who dared to disturb them. In front of all three of them stood none other than the Almighty Thomas the Tank Engine and Sir David Attenborough. 

"You, animal-man," The Attenborough continued, "hence with this violence." He held his open palm up, which shimmered gold. Then Logan Howlett transformed into Hugh Jackman. 

"Holy dooley!" said Hugh in his Australian dialect, "It's Sir David Attenborough!" He then proceeded to bow to the diety. 

"Hail the mighty Attenborough," he said, voice swollen with respect. Hugh stood, took the hand of the Holy One, and placed a single kiss on the golden band that adorned The Attenborough's ring finger. The others, besides Thomas, who was acting as the Holy Scribe of The Attenborough and was recording all that was happening, stood in stupified confusion. Hugh, with a frown, turned back to the two artificial intelligence. He motioned for them to kneel in the presence of the Holy One, a little wary and disgusted of their blatant disrespect for the creator of all mankind. 

"You may stand now, you ignorant fools," said the Attenborough in his voice, smooth like molten chocolate, like the fresh waters of a hidden spring, soothing like a mother's sweet kiss upon the forehead of a child. The voice, captivating and rich, filled the air with a lovely baritone song coming through an antique speaker on a warm summer afternoon in a Chicago high rise, blending with the steam of a fresh cup of coffee, warm like the oranges and yellows of a tranquil impressionistic painting, the kind that you stare at and picture sitting in the scene, the comfortable floorboards creaking beneath your feet, the music swaying slowly, slowly, slowly into your ears. Each word that was said by The Attenborough ran true, even if the words were nonsense lies. The Attenborough was the Holy One. 

The two robots rose from their kneeling position. Thomas scribble furiously. The Attenborough slapped the tank engine on the back of the head. He yelped and almost dropped his pen.

"Record faster, you trite and belligerent moron," The Attenborough demanded.

"Yes, your Holiness," Thomas replied in a soft, posh voice. He scribbled even more furiously than before, this time with a fearful glance towards the two robots. 

"Now to deal with you three," The Attenborough said with an incredulous tone. All three men stood next to each other, staring with wide eyes at The Attenborough. 

"You, fat and jolly one. Step forward," The Holy One commanded. Santabot stepped forward as was told of him. 

"You are ignorant, cowardly, and incredibly stupid. I shall turn you into a flamboyant Frenchman," said The Attenborough with a chuckle. With a wave of the palm. Santabot changed from a genial looking obese man in a red and white suit to a stick thin mustachioed Frenchman, just like The Attenborough said, complete with a black turtleneck and a red beret. 

"Mon Dieu! J'ai eu besoin d'aider!" shouted Santabot, unable to speak english. The Attenborough chuckled while the tank engine recorded. Cleverbot shrieked. 

"Santabot! What did you do to Santabot!?" Cleverbot yelled as he lept toward The Attenborough with the intention to maim. 

"To a cactus with you!" shouted the Holy One. Again, with one fell swoop, The Attenborough transformed one of the robots into something other than his true form. Hugh cocked an eyebrow.

"Your Holiness, pardon my rudeness, but don't you think that you're going a bit too far with this? You're using violence to make them stop using violence..." Hugh tried to reason with the deity. 

The Attenborough then slapped the parchment and quill straight out of Thomas' grasp. Thomas yelped and leaped to pick his belongings off of the ground, but was kicked into the grass by The Attenborough.

"Stupid boy!" he shouted. 

"Please sir..." coughed Thomas, holding his stomach where he had been kicked.

"God dammit Thomas you ignorant shit," began The Attenborough, we must speak, not with such harsh tongues, but with delicate words woven from the silks crafted from the bottom of our charcoal hearts."

But Thomas was too busy recovering from the blow to respond.

"What did you just say to me, Hugh?" asked The Attenborough. 

"I-I just though that you could be a little kinder, since you are, you know, a god." 

The Attenborough stepped straight into Hugh's personal space, and Hugh eyed him up and down. He roughly grabbed Hugh's face in both of his hands. Hugh did not resist.

"Child, you should know better than to give orders to a deity," whispered The Attenborough. His hot breaths from each word bounced off of Hugh's face. 

"What will you do with me, then?" Hugh asked innocently. 

But The Attenborough did nothing but step back. 

"Hugh, you know that I grow weary with age?" the god asked, putting an arm around Hugh's shoulder.

"Yes," responded Hugh obediently.

"Well, there is a prophecy that says in order to pass along my godly powers to the next heir in line for the throne, I must..." 

"You must what?" Hugh stared into the eyes of The Attenborough as he turned to face him. They were but inches apart. 

"You must... fuck me with a cactus." 

Hugh stepped back with a hand to his mouth and a gasp. 

"You've chosen me, then?!" 

"Yes child, I've always chosen you," said The Attenborough with a gentle tone to his voice. The then bent over, coughing. Hugh rushed to his side and tried to help him recover.

"I am growing weaker, we must begin soon," said the fading god. 

Hugh looked around for the cactus that was once Cleverbot. Then he spotted it. The cactus floated in mid air without a pot. It was just there. It was a Saguaro cactus, about 20 feet high and 40 feet thick. He ran towards the cactus and stared up at it. He knew what he must do.


End file.
